Florian's Adventure Through Auldrant and Beyond!
by Ginki
Summary: Between the time that the replicas of the Fon Master were done away with, and the point boy with the hair of red, the light of the sacred flame, encountered the replicas, there was an interval of two years.


Between the time that the replicas of the Fon Master were done away with, and the point boy with the hair of red, the light of the sacred flame, encountered the replicas, there was an interval of two years.

In this time, a replica who came to be known as Sync was taken into the God Generals, a boy who became recognized as the Fon Master grew up in Daath, and the one who would seize glory gained the trust of the light of the sacred flame.

But what of the one who came to be known as Florian? Was he not captured immediately by the same God-Generals that took Sync under their wing, a replica just like him in every sense?

This was not so.

In fact, it was many seasons before this boy was recaptured. What occurred, in that time? How was such innocence preserved in the world this green-haired replica was thrown into? And how did he come back into the grasp of Daath, the God Generals, and the score?

This is the tale of a replica of the Fon Master.

Our Journey Begins in Mount Zaleho.

* * *

**FLORIAN'S GRAND ADVENTURE THROUGH AULDRANT AND BEYOND**

_COME ON THIS ADVENTURE WITH ME!_

* * *

He first recognized he wasn't dead.

Which was pretty awesome in and of itself, since he remembered something about being done away with because he wasn't an appropriate replacement for the Fon Master.

Tch. If they wanted a replacement, they just should have taken the first dang replica they made. Not made a bunch. If you just made one, you'd never know what a bad replacement they were going to be. Jeez, fonists don't know _anything._

The second thing he recognizedly was that he was still in that Loreleidang volcano. He was alone, too. So all the priests and stuff must have left. He didn't mind that, though. He wasn't particularly fond of the priests anyway. Especially now that they'd tried to kill him.

He didn't know _why_ really. His fonic signature was doing fine. He'd seen some of the other replicas go a little crazy after a while, but he was still okay. Maybe it was his personality. Maybe his personality was just too different from his original's. Not that he would know, since he never got to meet his original.

He got up, examined himself, and realized he was completely fine. Not a single scratch on him. He was still wearing that ridiculous brown dress, though.

But what was the point of this all in the first place? He was supposed to be dead.

Should he be more concerned about all this? Excited? Sad?

No, he was definitely happy he was alright, but he wanted to find out if he was really the only surviving replica. So that would be his mission for now. That, and getting out of this Loreleidang volcano. Jeez, it was so _hot_ in a volcano. Plus, any sensible replica would've gotten out of here too. So that should be the first place he should look, right? Outside.

* * *

**MONSTERS!**

**MONSTERS EVERYWHERE!**

He'd never seen so many monsters in his whole life! Granted, that hadn't been very long.

But that didn't change anything! There were monsters here, monsters there! Around each corner, up the path! It was so hard for a sensible replica who just wanted to get out of the _overheated environment_ of this _stinking volcano_! Why was it so hard to do just that! He was going insane! It was messing with his fonic signature!

**LORELEIDANG _MONSTERS_!**

Besides monsters, though, he hadn't seen anyone else here. That supported his thought that everyone with sense had left.

The monsters, by the way, had no sense.

They kept attacking him, too. All the way up the path, they'd follow him. He couldn't even use any Daathic Artes, there wasn't enough time. They'd just charge forward, determined to gore him to death. He was usually fast enough to get out of the way, then they'd just charge into the lava.

After a while, though, he got tired of running. He hadn't done so much running, ever! Eventually he made it to the exit, without being gored or mauled or generally incapacitated. That was nice. He liked being able to move. Moving was good, a horn through the butt was bad.

It was something he would have to keep in mind for the future.

* * *

There wasn't anything around for a long, long, long time.

He couldn't have known that, just from exiting the volcano, that there would be nothing around for such a long time.

He slept under the stars one night. He was fascinated by them, really. He was also fascinated by the rumbling sounds in his stomach. As much as he didn't like the priests at all, at this point in his short life, they'd at least kept him fairly well-fed. This groaning, empty feeling in his stomach was new, he didn't like it at all.

But at least the night sky was pretty.

The day after that, he tried to catch one of those Loreleidang monsters he hated so much. He caught one, but he balked when he realized it was made of rocks, and most assuredly not for eating. So he ate some grass, it tasted gross, but that feeling in his stomach went away for a little while.

When the next day came, he was sick of the Yuliadamn sky. It was not edible, and hence it was just as bad as a horn through the butt.

He ate some leaves that day, but the tasted just a crappy as the grass.

There was an aching sensation in his legs, also something he'd never felt before. The outside world was full of new experiences and sensations for him. Unfortunately they all sucked.

At the end of that day, though, there was a light just beyond the horizon. He could see it, he was sure of it. He definitely wasn't hallucinating.

This, he would come to learn, was Daath Bay.

* * *

Daath Bay was just as boring as he had remembered the actual city being. Although he hadn't actually been in the actual city before. His experiences where more limited to the basement of the cathedral with some other replicas.

But that was boring, and so was this, so the point was still valid. But this place had some ships, so that was kinda cool.

"Oh my!"

"Could it be?"

"He has green hair! He must…"

"The Fon Master!"

The boy took in his surroundings for a moments, and realized that everyone he could see was staring at him. Did they really think that he was the Fon Master? Obviously the priests hadn't, but these people wouldn't know that.

Somehow, this made him feel more confident. Even if he was just a replica, right now, he could be the Fon Master.

"Fon Master, won't you please read my score?"

Or, you know, not.

He didn't know how to read someone's score. He was better at Daathic Artes than any of the other replicas, but that wouldn't help him right now. He couldn't just blast these people, that'd be rude.

It seemed like he was being swarmed, people were surrounding him. He tried covering his head, in some vain denial that he didn't actually have green hair and he wasn't actually related to the Fon Master in any way.

"Hey" Shouted a new voice, deep enough to pierce through the crowd's begging, "Leave th' Fon Master alone!"

The crowd backed away a bit, leaving the woman and the alleged Fon Master in the middle.

"You alright, hon?"

He was most certainly not alright. Scarred for life, maybe. That was definitely more likely than being alright.

"You're pretty far from home, right?"

This was Daath Bay, right? I mean, Daath even had the same name. He couldn't be too far.

Although, on second thought, he didn't really want to go back. Actually he'd be fine if he never had to go back to Daath again. He couldn't actually say that to this lady, though. Not when she, and everyone else, really did think he was… his original.

"I'll take you back that way. I've got a way to getcha back to Daath in no time at all." The lady winked, confident.

The boy just nodded. Even if it would mean going back to them.

* * *

If he had been thinking straight, be wouldn't have agreed to this in the first place.

"See, Fon Master? We got this underground tunnel, it connects through all the major cities in Malkuth and Kimlasca! We've kept it secret for a while, but if it's to get you back where you belong, I'm willing to use it for you."

That was nice and all, but the boy was more concerned about monsters. After all, the last time he'd been in tunnels like these was deep inside Zaleho volcano. He looked back towards the lady with the lamp meaningfully, as if to say, 'I'm not going to die here, right?'

Unfortunately, the meaning of the glance was lost on her, as she wasn't facing the alleged Fon Master at all.

"Now, we just have a little while more to walk, and we'll end up inside the cathedral."

He was confused. He couldn't really get inside from underground, right? That wouldn't make sense.

This hypothesis was rendered invalid then in a few minutes, as the lady had predicted, the popped out from beneath a floorboard in one of the cathedral storage rooms. There were a few boxes, but other than that, it was empty and dark, and a little bit smelly. The boy climbed out, but the lady stayed behind, holding the boards above her.

"A'ight, Fon Master, good luck on the rest of your journey," the lady said, "I'm glad I could help. Although, y'know, you could thank me by reading my sc—"

Suddenly, they could hear the clanking of armor on marble, right outside the pathetic little storage unit.

"Whoops!" She said, ducking bank underneath the floorboards.

This, of course, was not helpful to the boy in the slightest.

He went back behind a few of the larger boxes, hoping that nobody really needed anything in here. Eventually, the clanking became quieter and quieter, until he felt safe again.

Except not _REALLY_, because he was in the loreleidang cathedral , and he was gonna get captured by priests and thrown into a volcano again. And he didn't want that, jeez.

But he couldn't stay here either. A storage facility like this was meant for people to come into . He, on the other hand, couldn't be found. It was a shame that he was such a sheep, otherwise he might have been able to not let the lady take him here. It must have been imprinted into his fonic signature to be obedient. He wouldn't doubt it. Fonists were jerks.

Anyway, getting out would probably be the first step.

Also , he was still hungry, but that particular concern could probably wait until later.

So, carefully looking around the door, making sure the knights were no longer in view, he skipped across the hall into the next storage room. He continued this manner of sneaking along, until he came upon the end of the hall. At that point, there was nothing to do except go through the door, as carefully as possible.

And, surprisingly enough, the place where he ended up was familiar to him. It was the center of the cathedral, right before the altar where, so he heard, the Fon Master would read scores and preach and it was all very holy and stuff. In any case, it was quite crowded right now. He strained his neck to look beyond the heads of the crown,except this time be made sure he covered his own head first, making sure nobody saw the color of his hair.

He saw, in the distance, someone who looked exactly like him.

Now it made sense, this was the ceremony that welcomed the Fon Master back from his "illness."

Whatever. He and the boy up front both knew their original was dead, only the one up front had it off infinely better than he did. He crept along the side of the wall. He needed to get out of her before he was spotted.

At least, that was what he was going to do, before he saw an all-too familiar, stern, feminine, and utterly frightening face.

It was Legretta.

Their eyes met, and he knew he was going to die.

So, like the good replica with common sense he was, He ran for his life.

The other way.

He ended up through the door he had just been though, and slammed it behind him. That probably brought some unwanted attention his way, but even so, that didn't matter right now. Hide. He had to hide. He couldn't die here. Not after that lady went through all the trouble to bring him here, even if he didn't want to.

So, he was through the door, and for the moment, he was safe. At least until Legretta managed to bash it down after she had shoved her way through the crowd. He had to get out, he had to get somewhere safe.

And the storage room was as good as any, he guessed. He threw the door to one of them open once again, and shut the door, a bit quieter this time, and let out a sigh.

He was going to die. All that time walking out of the volcano was for nothing, nothing at all, because he was doomed and Legretta was going to shoot him.

_"Hey"_

Oh Lorelei, please don't let this happen, he almost said, because maybe if he pleaded with his maker, he'd be spared. Get some awesome super-powers and just jump out of the way of Legretta's magical bullets. Yeah. That. That'd totally happen.

_"Hey, You. Replica."_

What? How did?

_"Yeah I'm talking to YOU, replica. I'm no replica, I'm the real deal, and it's just you and me in here."_

Aw, dang. He was hearing voices. That was probably one of the signs that his life was flashing before his eyes or something, right? He could accept that. All the other replicas, except the one standing at the front of the crowd out there had. It was just…

_"Dammit kid, stop STANDING there and get me out! Didn't the priests teach you any manners?!"_

He couldn't help it. It was in his nature.

He rummaged through, around, over the boxes, figuring that, hey, he could at least help someone out in his final moments. Hopefully Legretta didn't want to kill this guy too.

_"I'm over here! In this box! Idiot, c'mon!"_

He finally got to the box where he thought the voice was coming from. It was large, roughly the size of a green haired replica of the Fon Master. The wood of the box was rotted and old-looking, perhaps more because of the dank atmosphere than the actual age of the wood. The boy stared ripping the box open when the voice told him,_ "Yeah, I'm in here!"_

Although it was not a person that was inside.

It was a glorious, shining, huge chainsaw.

Without a doubt, it was definitely as chainsaw.

_"WHAT."_

The boy cringed, and accepted the fact that a chainsaw was talking to him.

Suddenly, he heard the door, being smashed against repeatedly, the dull thud echoing through the halls outside the safety of the storage room. He looked around, the same way as a scared deer, looking for some way to get out.

_"What is your deal, kid?"_

He couldn't talk back to a chainsaw. It made no sense. He was a logical replica of the Fon Master, he refused to do things that made no sense.

_"Oh, since you're a replica of the Fon Master, they want you dead now, am I right?"_

He nodded furiously, both in recognition of the question and in some attempt to wake himself up from this nightmare. But it was to no avail.

_"Ugh, I guess I can let a replica wield me. C'mon kid, I'll break you out of here since you helped me out. I'm not completely insensitive."_

So the boy, with tears in his eyes because surely, surely he was going to die, took the chainsaw in his hand. It was surprisingly light, despite it's massive size. The boy felt better, now that he had something to defend himself from Legretta's bullets. In fact, if all else failed, he could always just hide behind the blade.

_"You better not be thinking about just hiding behind me."_

L-Loreleidammint! How did this thing know what he was thinking!?

_"Ha! You may as well be the Fon Master, I could read his thoughts too."_

The boy sighed.

_"Now don't getcherself disappointed yet. It's only just begun."_

As if on cue, Legretta kicked her way though the door at that very moment. The guns at her sides were all the backup she needed, and she pointed them in the direction of the boy.

"You cannot be allowed to live. We have need for you anymore."

_"Damn, kid. She's gonna kill you."_

The boy wailed a bit, and hid behind the chainsaw. Tears were now flowing freely down his cheeks. He was gonna die he was gonna die he was gonna --

"T-The Score."

Legretta's voice reached his ears, but he didn't quite understand. Was this fate in the Score as well? Is that was she was talking about? It didn't make sense but… Was she scared? Did she sound, kinda, maybe a little?

Under it's one power, the chainsaw roared to life, dragging the boy along behind it. He felt a bit like a ragdoll, but as soon as and the chainsaw had roared passed Legretta, he felt as free as he ever had in his life. Except for the fact that his back was now exposed to Legretta's gunfire.

Again, he couldn't help but fear for his life.

The chains were tearing through the marble floors of the cathedral like paper, and small sparks were threatening to burn his stupid sacrificial burlap-sack of an outfit. The bullets were wooshing past his head, and he was going to die.

Somehow, he felt that dying in the volcano would be preferable to the complete fear he felt right now.

* * *

Somehow, he had survived. Against all odds, he had been granted life. He and the chainsaw lay on a hill Lorelei only knew how far from Daath. But he was safe, although maybe a little bit singed. But in one piece. And alive.

_"Why are we stoppin' kid?"_

He was out of adrenaline; he had been running on nothing but that for at least a half an hour. His response was nothing but heavy breathing, because that was about all he could muster.

_"Heh, whatever."_

The boy just kept breathing.

_"I guess you did good. That was quite the jailbreak."_

The boy looked back towards the weapon, looking as innocent as a chainsaw could. There was nothing moving, nothing breaking, nothing to indicate that it was alive and speaking to him. It was kind of disconcerting. There was an odd sort of shine on the blade, though, and the boy was intrigued by it enough to lift himself from the cool grass and examine it.

The Score.

There were letters written on the blade, and that's exactly what is spelled out. The Score. Was that, was THIS what Legretta feared? Why she seemed so disoriented when he had hid behind it?

_"That's my name, y'know. It's what the original Fon Master named me. 'Cause I'm that powerful, that influential."_

And the boy completely believed it.

* * *

"Van."

"What is it, Legretta?"

She never felt completely comfortable around him. Their relationship was strange, to say the least.

"A replica. A replica has awakened The Score."

"What?"

If there was anything that truly disturbed Vandesdelca Grants, it was the Fon Master and his goddamned chainsaw. The destructive properties of that fontech was truly…

"We can't have that. We'll hhave to recapture him. There's no other way." And depite the confidence that he said the phrase with, he knew that neither the replica nor the fontech would go down without a fight.

* * *

A/N = I massively revamped this story, so it's getting re-uploaded. Sorry, I just like this concept a lot. :P


End file.
